


Tomes and Tongues

by solasharel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Erotic, F/M, Fellatio, NSFW, Oral Sex, bj, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3156629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solasharel/pseuds/solasharel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas' solitary afternoon is thrown aside by a surprise moment of intimacy with Lavellan - and an interruption from Dorian.<br/>THIS IS NSFW AND DOES FEATURE EXPLICIT LANGUAGE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomes and Tongues

She had slipped in almost silently.  Her mouth planted itself around the tip of one ear, tongue sucking gently at the delicate folds, and Solas jumped, knocking over the well of ink.  He gave a disgruntled sigh as the black fluid seeped through the pages before dripping over the edge, staining his newly-sewn trousers.

 

“Inquisitor, what have I told y-” his sentence halted at the contact of lips on lips, her smile was felt through teeth nipping at his flesh.  He barely stifled a moan, her forward approach both surprising and arousing.  Two hands cupped her face, molding hers to his, pulling her body around to sit upon his soiled lap.  She gasped as she felt his hardness - so quickly, but how could he not? - and she began rocking her hips and throwing her arms around his neck.  Her eyelids were heavy, cheeks flushed, and he moved to kiss her jawline, licking and biting with every other peck.  The door clicked behind them, then a cough as someone passed through, and she immediately pulled back, straightened herself.  His brow spoke where his words could not.  Wanting.  Finish what you started.  Her head swung around to check the balcony of the library but everyone seemed to be busy flipping through the pages.  

“Hide me,” she whispered.  With a cheeky smile she knelt before him, her mouth just barely a few inches from him, and retreated out of sight underneath the desk.  He carried on as though the moment had never occurred, taking a cloth from a drawer and mopping up the wet spots on his desk.  His papers were ruined.  He checked a book for damage, one finger sliding down the spine at the same moment as a small hand ran down the inside his thigh.  He almost yelped with pleasure as her fingernails raked through the fabric, running up and down each leg in turn, but he was determined to give nothing away.  

 

“Solas?”  Came a shout from above.

“Dorian.”  He replied, casually ignoring the work of deft fingers around the fastenings at his waist.    
“Do you have my copy of Maleficar Incendium?  It isn’t with my catalogue.”

“I cannot recall such a book among my collection.  Perhaps you should consult with Madame De Fer?”  Solas lost sight of Dorian as he moved about the library, then stilled as he heard footsteps descending the stone stairwell.  

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t have it?  I could have sworn I lent it to you only last week.”  The Tevinter mage appeared, twirling his moustache, trying to recall some memory.  Solas was forced to flex a hand to calm himself as Nyriel’s own cool fingers explored beneath his loosened clothing.  He breathed out.  Hard.  Dorian, meanwhile, seemed totally oblivious to the elf’s sudden flushed cheeks and white-knuckle grip on the rag he had used to tidy his workspace.  He coughed, hoping it would draw the Tevinter’s attention away from books and toward the idea of leaving, but he paid no mind.  

“I can assure-”  he breathed in sharply, eyes straining as Nyriel’s palms pressed into his aching erection, “I can assure you that I do not have that book in my possession.”  Dorian turned to face him, a frown showing his displeasure before noticing Solas pallid complexion.  

“Solas, are you alright?  You’re looking rather more peaky than normal.”

Solas struggled to suppress a moan, catching it in his throat as a snort.  She was too good at this, he thought, her hands working something akin to blood magic from her hiding place.  Dorian cocked an eyebrow, and approached the desk.

“I am fine, thank you for asking.  Just a reaction to the tea.  I cannot stand it but it aids in focus.”  He gestured to a teapot on the corner of the table, hoping that would distract the mage from witnessing his growing agitation.

“You know, Solas, I had been meaning to talk with you, actually.”

“Is that so?  I can’t imagine any reason you would want to talk to me.”  Solas’ eyes focused stubbornly on the dried up ink stain in the surface of the desk.  He tucked the sodden rag into the drawer from whence he had retrieved it, Dorian picking at his fingernails and pausing for dramatic effect.  Nyriel, silent as she was, clawed at Solas’ inner thigh, sending a jolt through his lower body.  She was not making this easy for him.

“Yes, I wanted to speak with you regarding the Inquisitor,”  Dorian finally spoke.  There was a bump from under the table and the quietest hiss, and Solas couldn’t resist a smirk.  She must have seen his reaction because the next thing he felt was a hot wet sensation against the tip of his throbbing cock.  He barely masked his groan with a cough.

“Go on,” he rasped.

“It seems that our favourite elven leader has affections for you and I just want you to know if you hurt her… I am a necromancer.  Consider the applications for such magic.”  Solas shot him a feral glance.

“She is in no danger from me,” he replied, resting a fist in his lap so that Dorian wouldn’t see how hard his nails dug into his palm.  If anything, he thought, it was quite the opposite.  His hunger thrashed and raged inside of him as her mouth slid up and down his shaft, her tongue curling around the tip before engulfing his entire length with a single sweep.  His other hand dragged down his face, trying to press some colour back into his cheeks and masking his reaction at feeling her touch every inch of him.  He was sure that Dorian would have noticed something by now, but he seemed rather caught up in his own troubles.

“Right,” he had replied, shuffling his feet towards the stairs, “So long as you are aware.  I’ll see that Vivienne doesn’t have this book.  I don’t know how I’m expected to do anything around here if people insist on moving my things!”

Moments later Solas felt a familiar pressure tighten around the base of his cock, and he could contain himself no longer.  Seeing that Dorian had turned the corner he plunged his clenched fist into Nyriel’s hair, guiding her impatiently up and down his length until his release came, biting his free hand to keep from moaning too loudly, spending himself inside of her.  Her face watched him in fascination as his orgasm faded, bright eyes shining with the anticipation of retribution.  He was certain she would receive it.  She licked him clean and then tidied up his clothes.

“You.. You should not have done that, vhenan.”  He murmured between breaths.

“Well, you weren’t complaining a moment ago,” she winked.

“It wasn’t exactly an opportune moment.  You should be thankful that no one has seen or suspected.”  He was pulling her up into his lap, her head ducking to miss the edge of the desk, when Dorian appeared back around the frame of the archway.

“Solas, I am certain you have this book, I- Oh, am I interrupting something?”  His eyes were locked onto Nyriel’s body still half-concealed between Solas’ legs, her head mere inches from his groin.

“Oh no, Dorian, I was just leaving,” she smirked, pushing herself up and hopping out of Solas’ grasp.  She rubbed two fingers against the tip of his ear in affection and then hopped out into the main hall, winking at Dorian as the door slammed behind her.

“I- you- she? The whole time?!”  For once, Dorian was left speechless.  Solas ignored the Altus’ gormless expression and merely opened another drawer from his desk, producing a weather-beaten remnant of a tome.

“I have just recalled that I do in fact have your copy.  The Inquisitor left it here, and it must have slipped my mind.  Anything else?”

Dorian meekly took the book from Solas’ hands and scurried back upstairs, visions of the Inquisitor’s compromising position burned into his mind.  Suddenly he didn’t feel like reading.

 

 


End file.
